


mind of stone

by thisissirius



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M, Murder, Protective Ben Mitchell, Protective Callum "Halfway" Highway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: There’s a hollow numbness to Callum when he picks up the phone.“Yeah?”Just hearing Ben’s voice has Callum’s breath leaving in a rush. “I need your help. And Phil’s.”Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment. “What did you do?”Callum barks a laugh, hollow, and stares at the body. “Just come to the Arches.”
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	mind of stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finkpishnets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/gifts).



> hitting up this wonderful day for madroxed this time, who drags me kicking and screaming into everything. i say kicking and screaming and mean casually saying, “this way,” and i follow. anyway, i adore you, bobbie, as you well KNOW. i could scream about how much i love you or i could write you murder boyfriends. i did the latter :))))

There’s a hollow numbness to Callum when he picks up the phone. 

“Yeah?”

Just hearing Ben’s voice has Callum’s breath leaving in a rush. “I need your help. And Phil’s.”

Ben doesn’t say anything for a moment. “What did you do?”

Callum barks a laugh, hollow, and stares at the body. “Just come to the Arches.”

When Ben does arrive, he’s got his dad in tow. They look from Callum, to the body on the floor, then back up. 

“There was a third option,” Callum says, when the words have spilled out of him. Laying the truth at the Mitchells feet and waiting for them to decide his fate. His fingers are tight around the wrench and he still feels weirdly hollow, but not sick.

Looking at Thompson, he feels nothing. 

“Cal,” Ben says. 

Callum stares at his clothes, blinks. “You can hand me in, or—”

“No,” Ben says, anger boiling beneath the surface. 

“No,” Phil agrees, and though there’s that fucking tick in his jaw that Callum hates, he nods at Thompson. “We need to get rid of him, first.”

“Get these off,” Ben says, shoving at Callum’s clothes.

Callum undresses quickly, watches out of the corner of his eye as Phil hovers over the body, starts patting down Thompson. Well, Thompson’s body. “Fuck.”

Ben eyes him carefully. “Cal—”

“What am I supposed to do with these?” Callum balls up his shirt and trousers, shivers a little in his underwear. It’s not the first time he’s been in here like this with Ben. Phil’s in the room, and there’s the dead body of his boss but fuck it. Maybe Callum’s actually losing his mind. He feels oddly calm and collected for someone who’s still got blood on his hands, his face. 

“Burn ‘em,” Phil says, pushing to his feet. He’s got Thompson’s phone and wallet in hand, and he’s rooting through both. Callum wonders what he’ll say when he sees their conversations, if Thompson’s stupid enough to keep them on his phone. “I’ll deal with this, with these.”

Callum opens his mouth to say something, but Ben’s fingers wrap tightly around his arm. 

“Come on,” Ben says, voice tight, eyes darting around the room like he can’t stand to look at anything for too long. 

“I was scared of him,” Callum says, the next morning. He stares at a point over Ben’s left shoulder. “This whole time I thought if I could just stay one step ahead of him, I could get both you and Phil out of this.”

Ben doesn’t say anything. Hasn’t said anything since he dragged Callum into the house, made him shower, and slept downstairs on the sofa. 

Callum wonders if they’re ever gonna fight. “I’m not sorry.”

Ben bites at his bottom lip, that familiar sneer covered by a quick rub of his nose. “Right.”

“Believe what you like,” Callum says, suddenly tired. He’s spent all night waiting for the shock to hit him, the revulsion, or the nausea. It’s still not come. “I need to go to work.”

“Cal,” Ben starts. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Callum reaches for his jacket. “If I don’t go in, they’ll know it’s me.”

Ben lets him leave. Callum tries to pretend it bothers him.

And tries. 

And tries. 

Days pass; everyone’s worried, of course they are, but the word _murder_ never comes up, like Thompson’s just cut and run. Callum wonders if it’s possible, knows Thompson was suspended first, but that doesn’t make the fear come. Nothing does.

All he does is think, _for Ben, I did it for Ben_ , and something in him settles. 

Doesn’t wanna analyse that too much.

Phil sits across from him. 

So far, Callum’s managed to stay alive, but he’s been wondering when Phil’s anger would catch up with him. 

“I,” Callum starts. 

Holding up a hand, Phil sits back in his chair, watches Callum carefully. 

It takes every inch of self-control Callum possesses not to squirm. 

“Good lad,” Phil says, gruff as always. He taps his hand on the table. 

Callum nods, knows what Phil’s trying to say. “I’d do it again.”

Phil appraises him, and for once, Callum doesn’t find himself lacking. “I know.”

A couple of days later, Jack corners him.

Curling a hand around Callum’s bicep, he tugs him into a secluded office and raises his eyebrows. 

Callum’s done being scared of him, of Thompson, of anybody. Now that he’s shifted into the headspace, he finds he can’t stop protecting, even if that means putting on a hard front. “You got something you wanna say?”

“He must have said something to you,” Jack says. “You must know something about what he really wanted, where he was going.”

“He didn’t,” Callum says, swallowing. “I don’t. If you wanna interrogate someone, how about the last person to see him alive?”

Jack nods, stares down at his feet, then back up. “We’ll pull his phone records, bank cards, everything. We’ll know Thompson’s life inside out and then we’ll know, won’t we?”

Callum’s expecting fear to hit him then, but the words only make him angry. He didn’t go through all of that shit with Thompson only to lose his spine _now_. He’s done some stupid shit in the last few weeks, but forgetting police procedure isn’t one of them. Tilting his chin, Callum says, “Can’t you only do that if he’s actually dead?” 

On anyone else, the question is innocent, but Callum can see Jack doesn’t buy it. “I know he is.”

“If that was true,” Callum says, straightening as he opens the door, “you wouldn’t need to talk to _me_.”

Walking away from Jack, Callum keeps his cool until he enters the bathroom, stares at himself in the mirror. Nothing about him is changed; he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, what someone looks like after they kill someone. 

Ben’s face didn’t change. Not that Keanu kicked it, but still, Ben stayed Ben. 

Apparently, Callum’s staying Callum. 

He’s just gotta decide who that is. 

Callum’s a murderer. 

If someone finds out what he’s done, they’ll know about Danny and they’ll know about Thompson. The thought of that doesn’t make his skin crawl half as much as the way Ben stares at him. 

He holds out as long as he can, but eventually he snaps, “What?”

“Cal.” Ben says his name carefully. “You killed someone.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Callum says, his voice tight. “I was there.”

There’s a wary expression on Ben’s face. “I thought you’d—that it’d be harder on you or something, like Louise after Keanu.”

Callum snorts, stares into his mug of tea. “Yeah, well. Turns out killing’s easy to do when it’s for you.”

The words seem to hit Ben. He reels, rocking back on his heels, mouth parted slightly. 

Running his hands over his face, Callum stares up at the ceiling. “I’d do anything to protect you.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, sliding into the seat next to Callum’s. His fingers rest an inch from Callum’s. 

“I should feel guilty.” The words are ones that have been running through Callum’s head this entire time. “I killed someone and I know it’s wrong, that maybe I’ll think about it sometimes, worry about it, but the truth is, I’m not sorry.”

Their eyes meet. Callum remembers the day after Keanu; Ben pulling himself apart and trying to stay strong. Callum wonders if deep down, he’s all that different from his father. 

“You’re nothing like him,” Ben snaps, when Callum says as much. “This is—”

Ben’s got no words for it, apparently, but Callum does. “Family,” he says, doing Ben the courtesy of looking him in the eye, “Is everything to me. I haven’t had it like this before. With you and Lexi, Stu and Rainie. Hell, even your dad and Lola and _Jay_ and I,” cuts himself off. Ben takes his hand, fingers squeezing gently and Callum breathes out slowly. “I have to protect it. Protect you, no matter what. You get it, right?”

It takes a moment and Callum feels a little sorry for talking too fast, the words tumbling out, but Ben seems to get the root of what he’s saying. There’s that touched expression, shocked and pleased, like Ben’s still surprised someone will go that far for him, will love him that much. 

“I’m not saying I’m not worried about it,” Callum admits. “That one day I’ll get nicked for it, but I had to protect you and—”

Ben kisses the rest of the words away. His hand is hard on the back of Callum’s head, gripping the fingers of Callum’s hand so tight he thinks they’re gonna break. “I’d do the same to protect you.”

_Almost did_ , he doesn’t say. _Would have shot my dad_ , because Callum knows. 

“No matter what,” Callum says, with a belief that should be scary. 

“Yeah,” Ben breathes against Callum’s mouth. 

Days pass. 

The guilt never comes. 

Callum stops being surprised by it, learns to adjust his world view to include _nothing_ in the column of what he wouldn’t do for Ben. 

**Author's Note:**

> writing callum as callum in this was hard but then i remembered it was easy when you think about what he did to danny so, there we go. also i find ben way more comfortable to write so go figure my first fic is about callum. 
> 
> join me on the [tumblr](http://thisissirius.tumblr.com) for things


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